Pouting lips

"Mommy, are you still mad?" the little sprout suddenly and cutely asked me. I was in the corner of the living room eating some leftovers pancakes. Just one.

But… I am not mad, alright? I am not some little childish woman that will sulk from some little golden fish eating my pancakes. Jeez… I bet that little Furby and her little friend knew that I was distracted.

They were the famous chocolate pancakes of Vania that not many times I have the pleasure to taste. She is rarely in the mood to make them, though, I beg her occasionally, not too much, just like, I don't know, maybe every day. What? They are just delicious, who can blame me?

"No," I am not mad, truly.

"Then, why are you pouting?"

Her little daring finger pinched my cheeks. I will bite it if this goes on. She is making fun of me and not just her, but the golden fish on the side is giggling.